Wacky Weekend
by Night Strider
Summary: Mrs. Rukawa will be away for a while and she is persistent on the thought that her son Kaede needs a baby sitter. As fate would have it, Mitsui's house is just a block away and now it's up to Mitsui how to take good care of Rukawa. MitRu-RuMit.CONCLUDED!
1. Chapter I

Disclaimer: I don't SD boys, Inoue does. The events that follow are not included in the original plot but enjoy anyway.

Summary: Mrs. Rukawa will be away for a while and she is persistent on the thought that her son Kaede needs a baby sitter. As fate would have it, Mitsui's house is just a block away and now it's up to Mitsui how to take good care of Rukawa. MitRu-RuMit.

A/N: Idea's suggested by my comrades, Castor and Pollux.

Chapter I: The Door and the Kid

Then the door stood still as it had been doing for uncounted decades; unperturbed and as inanimate as a stuck bottle lid waiting to be violated by avenging knuckles. Its hinges were stubbornly hasped against the alloyed portal frame, and the knob seemed no more movable than the Himalayan ranges of the frigid zones. Yes, the maximum security applied to it could be suspected as a part of somebody's paranoiac fits, one of its ridiculous aftermath. But that's beside the point, and I'm not to give you an overview of the door's stupid resolution because nothing destructive really happened to it, nor will I divulge the infinite number of times when it had been the object of my frustrated anger. Yes, I've gone as far as belaboring the poor thing like it just pushed my temper attack button, so fed up with all the pathetic banging and slamming of those who'd pass by it ungratefully. Good thing it wasn't alive; but my fists were always in a terrible state after each outbreak. But again we're wandering off two miles away from the target; it's hardly the case I want to emphasize here. You see, the thing is the door's still standing there, barely out of shape and aware of any bad recollection; the only thing that indicated any significance related to it is the number 27, the insignia of its presence which nonetheless tells everybody that he is about to enter the threshold of the Mitsui family's abode. More than likely, that already poses as a cautionary statement to anyone who'd dare knock on the legendary door. Then the day came to reverse history.

For the first time in its pathetic subsistence, the door was prescinded with respect. A gentle yet urgent knock greeted the wooden surface at 6:30 in the morning that one cold Saturday. If it came but a little later, the knock would've seemed even a blessing for a dead beat door; but anything that goes so out of schedule sure is a pain in the ass. Nor would the master of the house take to it lightly that anyone would go zapping him out of shut-eye on a beautiful weekend.

The person behind it must've been blasting the damned door with impatient patting for God knows how many times already when I dragged myself out of bed. Whoever it was, I thought, he/she was certainly consistent on her business to go on knocking for the next, unresponded minutes. It must be something important, perhaps even an emergency for the person to be this tenacious; hell, the door was solid as damned mineral. But my drowsiness was even more competitive and stimulating further my blunt senses, it drove me with a stronger inclination to drop my lids for a couple of more hours. And the pesky knocking persisted in a progressive volume like a giant's footsteps that shook the biosphere as well as my sleep. 'I'll get it, damn bastard.' I told myself then, giving up on the culprit's spleen-less determination. With obvious difficulty, I untangled myself from the blankets and dropped my feet on the floor as they led me all the way to the entrance hall. I was still tousle-haired and crammy from my incomplete sleep when I twisted the door knob; it was freezing like a freaking ice block. Wait till you see what was outside; the morning was literally sprawling with excessive fog.

'Yes. Can I help ya?' I muttered, in a half dazed tone. I couldn't make out who it was so I scratched my eyes to get a clearer view. Then the realization struck...

'Mitsui-san, Can you do me a favor? I'd highly appreciate it.' Came a stern and dignified voice of a woman's. It was Mrs. Rukawa, one of our neighbors here in old dullsville. Needless to say, Kaede's mom. This is the first time I got to talk to her face to face and I couldn't help noticing, cold as I was, that she was remarkably attractive. She was donned in some snazzy fall outfit; a beige overcoat and a pair of really hot pants. Did she go to work looking this soigne? I wondered. A pointless steam seemed to educe from my pores to alleviate the more pointless cold. I might've been blushing. Dammit, did I really let her knock on the irritating door that long? Blimey, she was a doll. Crap.

'Yes, ma'am. What is it?' I answered almost enthused. No longer did I possess the it's-goddamn-6:30-in-the-morning-what-d'you-want-me-for-so-early-anyway air; I was swept away by apprehension and excitement just the same.

'I'm going to work and Kaede's maid is on a vacation. I can't take him because...he doesn't like it. Anyway, I'm afraid he can't be by himself alone at home so I thought, maybe you can look after my son since you're the only one near whom Kaede is used to.' She said in a scattered voice that became pleading each second. Not only till I looked at her meticulously that I recognized some prominent resemblance between her and her son. It almost goofed me out to learn that she was plainly Kaede in his mythical womanhood. And yes, she did go to work in that catwalk bound apparel. Hot. wait a sec, did she say look after her son? baby sitting? Me? Jesus.

'Uhmmm, well. You mean Ruk-I mean-Kaede can't take care of himself?' I asked, wrestling with perplexities which altogether skived off my narco. When I was in junior high; I did all things by myself and then this shrewish coot couldn't sit upon himself...that was so phony, almost comical. And mind you he had a personal sitter, and he was supposed to be Kanagawa's best rook. But that didn't send me to titters. I was psyched, thrilled to discover that whatever Rukawa's accomplishments were in the name of the godly sport basketball, there wasn't any ruble of reflection in it in his mother's pride. Perhaps, she wasn't even aware that her son was gracing athlete's mags' pages.

'I don't mean to disturb, Mitsui-san. But my son, he's kinda special. Not like other kids, in that sense. He needs every attention and I can't give that to him in a diurnal basis. Please.' She said in a deplorably importuning tone. There was nothing obtrusive about it, really; she just thought her son was retarded or a psychopath who required high maintenance. That's all. But wasn't she making a mistake in treating her son like he was some illiterate buckhead? Rukawa wasn't exactly a retard, he was just...alright, perhaps he was a retard.

'No, there isn't any trouble, Mrs. Rukawa. Well, if it will help you a lot, I'll take your son. It's fine, really, I'm alone right now. I thought maybe I'll be needing a company this weekend. So where is he?' I said. It just had me stumped, I need to grant this implausible favor for what it would take. Even if I were to be the plot's patsy here. What a bloke was I to refuse a woman's request, anyway? Arghhh.

Then Rukawa's form materialized from their luxury car with a rumpled look of boastfulness I couldn't defy then, even now. He was always like this even in his most listless state; when nailing a jumper, grabbing boards...whatever. He drew nearer and as I perused this dandy in his everyday training clothes, I didn't see immediately a naive child to be looked after; but a sly brute to handle, my very own bete noire. He could be a plaguy asshole for all I knew. For a second that's what it was. Then his mom spoke with finality.

'Ok, be good, boys. Here's a little help to cover your expenses just in case you need something; snacks or anything.' She pulled out a wad of crumpled bills from her bag and handed it to me. 'I'll be back this evening. Goodbye, son. And Mitsui-san, thanks very much; words can't express how grateful I am.' She smiled, seeming to have dissipated all her initial trepidations, and peeled away to their car as it zoomed away. If I did utter a word of welcome in return, she didn't hear it.

Then I turned to Rukawa whose face was all heady with glum. I adjured him to follow me inside which he did rather mutely. This was going to be lethargic, molto. I thought. And for the first time in his life, Kaede Rukawa entered the number 27 door.

Note: Read and review. You can flame me for all I care. I don't know if I'd ever have the urge to finish this story because this came rather unexpectedly, it's all up to you readers. But I'm working on the next chapter, ok? Thanks for reading, have a nice day.


	2. Chapter II

Disclaimer: I don't own SD boys, Inoue does. The events that follow are not included in the original plot but enjoy anyway.

Chapter 2: The Hours

So I was skunked by a cute middle-age's request and here I was fostering a teenager who had a mental clock of a toddler. Nice going, Hisashi.

Rukawa sequaciously tailed me to the living room where I intended to usher him. The house was practically empty and comparatively clean, so I guess that would've been enough for Kaede Rukawa. If you think that I exulted at the thought of entertaining him, you're mistaken. He was just a team mate after all, and neither of us was so glad we had each other for company. So it was up to him to entertain himself at that point; nursery amusement wasn't part of deal, right?

For the first moments, we stood unguarded. I was still having a hang out from my incomplete sleep and you could tell the kind of wangling steps I was taking in my pyjamas, and he...well he was always in a mindless stupor like a mechanic automaton that turned into a basketball monster at the sight of a net. Naturally he was acting miffed. He was always like that...like he was so cool he could overcast the whole universe with a deleterious typhoon.

'Take a seat for chrissake.' I emitted in an irritated tone. The hell was he doing standing stiff like a flag pole? It was just somebody else's house, no one was going to arrest him if he took a seat without permission.

'...' He plopped himself down on the sofa bed in no less rigidity; you'd think he'd only act the moment he received a stupid command. His eyes retained the old hollow transparency he had been wearing all morning. It was very far from those that I'd seen in action.

'You've bitten anything, Rukawa? Breakfast?' I asked in a territorial sort of query. I didn't want to lend courtesy; this wasn't exactly my idea of spending a weekend alone in my place. Hell I was never fond of the boy for crying out loud.

'Yes.' He muttered drolly without even looking at me, much less looking thankful for the offer. What the hell.

'Well I haven't.' I said as-a-matter-of-factly. 'So I'm grabbing something from the fridge. You stay here and don't go out, okay?' I finished without waiting for an answer.

I skittered down to the kitchen and flung the fridge open to be greeted by a carton of fresh milk. Same as always; I was chewing cereals for the morning. They say it's healthy but what's the use of fucking healthy when you're bound to nurse an overgrown retard under your roof? I squinched up my face to show my irritation to show it to no one in particular. I was pissed by my own folly; had I refused Mrs. Rukawa I would've been snoozing like a cow on my bed and not opining myself crazy with all this Rukawa thing. I unheedingly stashed the corn cereals on the rice bowl and let fall the milk on them. Chewing proved to be a challenge when I started worrying myself sick about the disadvantages of looking after Rukawa; number one; he's a bore, number 2; he's a bore, and number 3; he's a bore. It would be worse than useless to confine ourselves within my place doing nothing; that'd kill me. Ever heard of anyone who died of boredom? I wouldn't want to be the first one nor to be THE one. That would make me seem too stupid for my standards. Then my jaw began to get craggy as I lost control of my mastication; without knowing it I was chewing so vigorously that almost every chunk I took in was dripping back from my mouth. 'Damn thing!' I ejaculated hoarsely but only icy echoes gave a reply. The house had never seemed so effete before; it was as if Rukawa's presence only augmented the dispirited aura within the vicinity.

After munching on the pointless breakfast I returned to check him out; he hadn't moved a fragment, that was nice. The only alteration might've been the number of respiration he had performed and oh, the 30 minute addition in his lifetime. Magnificent. I slumped myself across him for whatever reason and directed my gaze bull's eye on his.

'Look, I haven't the slightest hunches of what you do at 7:00 in the morning. If you would be so kind to tell me, then I'd be much obliged to prepare it for you.' I proposed somewhat sarcastically. Somehow, I was hoping he'd go for a basketball routine in the nearby playground but he didn't.

'...' No response. I felt like I was instructing a wall to run after an escaped criminal. He was as immotile as the damned American continent; the only thing he did to acknowledge my inquisition was to tilt his fraying head in a rakish angle. So that must mean nothing. I was frazzled beyond endurance and was about to bawl over but...

'Okay...you want to go biking? Y'know, inhale some fresh air. The sun's beautiful this time of the day. There's nothing on the tube at this hour; all they show you is these silly police beats in the news and I trust you don't care about current events or how many corpses were found in Japan's dark alleys.' I suggested in a casual inflection, feeling that a more affable mode of speaking was necessary. Even I was surprised I had taken care of my temper. Anything just to get rid of him; even if I sounded like a phony parent who couldn't convince a child.

'...' Still nothing. He just simplified his remark with a sore shrug. What an impudent mutt. I knew he had a very low squabbling ratio, talking at average 40 words per day; but to give a stupid breath for an answer was way off reasonable. It made me want to reave him out of the damned door. Oh well, time to get this beat-around-the-bush cackle a few notches down, I was going to order him flat out to skive himself away from me.

'Rukawa, I need a little hand here. If you would rather have it that we stare at each other all day that's fine with me (on second thoughts, that sounds fucking horrible to me), but don't expect your sojourn here to be fruitful because I ain't got anything to have you entertained, okay?' I said, trying hard to hoodwink my resentful mood.

The glum on Rukawa's face was replaced by a sudden frown as his glance drove a fraction nearer to mine as if to ask my intentions. Still he didn't answer.

'So what I'm implying is that you find yourself something to play with outside or away from me so that you wouldn't just hole up in here with me and bore yourself to death. Got that? The last time I baby sat was decades ago, upon my little sister; but now she's in junior high and I quite lost track of how to do it...so go ahead and enjoy yourself.' I continued in righteous indignation. How long was I going to persuade him to leave me alone, anyway? There I was gaggling like a goose to an intellectually incapacitated slob and I wasn't getting even a syllable of retort. Imagine how frustrating a bastard he could get.

'I'll just stay here, sempai.' Came the ultimate, ever so awaited reply. 5 senseless words were all he could supply after multifarious sets of babel and babbling had been released by my exhausted throat. He just wanted to stick his ass on the goddamn sofa bed round the clock because he had become so enticed and allured by it. I wanted to rummage it to see what sort of enchantment that made the bastard so attached to it but that would've made me look stupid even in front of someone like him.

'That's it? Stay here? But that's so fucking preposterous! Sounds like an old clunk's idea of fun; sit and relax all day. You're getting too old for your age, kiddo. Go get yourself a toy, anything. Or you could go to the movies; there's a new motion picture from Pixar, "The Incredibles". It's fascinating. I've seen it so I ain't going with you, or you can attend Shohoku's remedial classes; I bet to hell your grades didn't shoot through the roof this time...just go!' I hollered hysterically, as pugnacious as a tyrannical Viking. I was shooting the bull; I had watched the silly film no more than he and there wasn't any remedial class back in the campus. I studied him with bemused eyes; he was still drowning himself in chaotic gloom. I was dawdling in-cohesively but what did it matter? If I looked like an idiot for raving like this, I was sure Rukawa wouldn't mind it. In fact I was rather skeptical that he had any sense of classification when it came to identifying who was an idiot or a genius.

'My mom asked me to stay with you, sempai.' he mumbled as he quickly washed off any lifeless expression on his face. So after some venomous minutes of trying to extract anything from his cynical glare, I got reason. His mom asked him to coll himself to the baby sitter, and he was obsequious under the given premise. His mom...the workaholic dowager who dumped him in front of my door step as if he were some shuttle bound, fragile package. Great; the freshman jock cum haughty floor sweeper was a good son after all. Obedience wasn't exactly a virtue one gets from school (Hell, Rukawa didn't get anything from Shohoku except for a lousy all-girl fan club); wherever he got this, it sure wasn't from the hours of snoring inside his insane classroom.

'Well yeah that's one point; technically you are under my probation. But do you seriously regard me as your guardian? You don't, more than I treat you as my responsibility. I don't give a crap if you've just been diagnosed as a mentally imbalanced juvenile, I'm not your doctor. But if you're going to spoor me around like I'm your mom and you're my cub, I ain't gonna let that either. Clear? You can go outside for all I care.' I chortled in a mollified note only to see Rukawa endorsing the same blank stare. Prudence was a quality I never possessed but sarcasm was my forte and at this point, I had clambered up to the pinnacle of my irritation and the view wasn't so good from up there.

I let an intermittent pause seep through. I needed a ponderous second to rearrange the structure of my thoughts. Rukawa, the big jerk of intolerable contumely, was consistently acting like an imbecile as he had been for 15 years. The minutes coursed through a soft stream of cogitation and a silence...a silence that I'd been dreading to avoid like a plague incessantly wrapped itself around us. I tried to flog it down...This was what I was frightened to end up in; to be enmeshed in an eye to eye, wordless moment with Rukawa. Holy cow! Then as crazy as the situation was getting, an idea poured itself to me,

'Right. You don't want anything. Fine by me. I'll do it my way then.' I announced peremptorily and stretched up.

Rukawa remained soundless and inadvertent in much the same manner even as I ripped my way through the door. It was like watching your listener lose interest in your tale, so equally insulting. The humongous asshole.

'The cash your mom shoved to me abetted me to nib a case of alcoholic drink from the nearest local boutique. You said you wanted to stay with me, then get drunk with me. Yeah, I do that on a hebdomadal basis so don't go reporting me to the police and don't fink me to your mom.' I sneered, pulling a sweatshirt from the cupboard. I knew he wasn't going to blurt it to his mom, I didn't think he was the kind naturally. But I was, however, aware that he was composing himself better than I expected; he didn't redound one single reaction, for the whole time he had been as cool as an arctic ice floe.

I threw the door open and followed the trail to the store. Rukawa just made an incoherent gesture I wasn't able to catch; perhaps even taking the time to be ashamed.

A scrim of burdensome weight was filtered away from me as I snatched myself away from the bastard. From that perspective, I could see how dreary my house looked with that unit number 27. I wouldn't even want to repeat to myself that some mean entity was lounging there.

I scampered my way to the store's path, cursing an awful times. Nosy people came throwing incurious glance at me like they just saw an incongruous animal on the loose. Then it dawned on me; I was dressed so pathetically in this almost pellucid pyjamas and my hair was all a mess. 'Damn Rukawa!' I shrieked coarsely only to invite more attentive glances.

'Mitsui-san, you look awful.' said Mr. Inoh, the store owner. I reached it, finally.

'You have no idea. Nah, I don't wanna talk about it.' I grunted wolfishly.

'Bad day? This early?' The man smiled.

'Yeah. Unimaginably.' I snapped.

'Easy. You need Lucky Strike?'

'Still got loads of stock at home. A case of Miller Lite, please.' I said.

'Throwing a party this early, huh? I never knew you drink, Hisashi.' he chuckled amicably.

'You're right I don't, but I'm going to make a recant; I'm drinking myself to death this wacky weekend.' I replied bitterly.

I don't want to delve history as to why I abstained from taking a dose of alcoholic beverages. My gangster cronies sure were into drinking barrels but hey, set me apart from them, and though I still chilled out with them I wasn't capricious enough to try it. I smoked though, and if I had to place any blame in my future notoriety for being an obscure smoker, I'd put it on the nights out with my gang pals. But drink I didn't. And don't ask me why I did something so crazy; I went as far as pushing myself to the limits just to show Rukawa I was the man and that he shouldn't be pestering the crap out of me. Mad, isn't it?

Or perhaps I wanted to impress him? Oh to hell with that...I just lied to him, that's all.

TBC


	3. Chapter III

Disclaimer: I don't own SD boys, Inoue does. The events that follow are not included in the original plot but enjoy anyway.

A/N: Yes! This is the last chapter. (laughs diabolically) Thanks to Castor and Pollux for the idea, and to my dear reviewers; Kaara, Mifune, Mistress KC, HM (your name's quite a tongue twister) and to everybody. I wouldn't have the patience to finish this without you all (sheds a tear). Anyway, this is kinda inedited so just forget the errors.

Warning: language. Lotsa swearing.

Chapter III: The Visitor

I briskly shuffled through our gate path to ward off prying eyes. People just kept gawking at me since they noticed this sour freak in a pair of semi transparent pyjamas with a 10 bill beer case latched between his hands. Yeah, it was an outlandish spectacle; especially at 8 in the morning when the neighborhood was still scratching off the sleepiness out of its eyes. I continued to pace leisurely till I came upon the mystical threshold of house number 27.

I wrenched the door open only to be amazed by the fact that my visitor was still stiff as a granite statue. He actually busied himself surveying the slab-sided sofa bed that squatted before him; I couldn't tell which was duller, each seemed to accuse one another of the same flaw; 'You're so boring.' But there was a breakthrough; he practically changed his position and leaned a little closer to the back of the seat; other than that, he was still destabilized and lulled to a permanent speechlessness. For some reason, i was suddenly upbeat to see Rukawa in his chronic ineptitude. Why was he so obedient to me? I told him not to move and guess what? He didn't and without a fret, making me feel like I was really the honcho here; I thought the only holy man in his eyes was Anzai-sensei. That almost made me feel sorry for my former, over-acted agitation. I smiled wolfishly and dumped the beer case in front of him.

'There. We can throw a little party here,' I cheered while surveying the size of our living room. 'We can invite a couple of our pals and drown ourselves with beer. We can actually conduct a slumber party!'

Slumber party? Whoever heard of a slumber party that starts in the morning? Whatever. Rukawa just nodded periodically to signify assent. I had no idea if he was enthused by my plans but one thing was certain; I wasn't hired to perform a sedentary job and pay hell by playing a staring game with Rukawa for half a day. So I decidedly considered to make calls as my only resort. The first one that came to mind was Kogure. Then I figured that the gink was a parent boy; he'd rather have Shohoku lose a devastating match against Takezono than to drop a milliliter of alcohol on his tongue. Then flashed Miyagi. Brilliant, I thought. The first time I went out with Miyagi was listed as one of my most fun moments and I have no doubt he drank. Though he wasn't exactly a party going sot. I eagerly punched his number on the dial buttons.

'Hi there. This is Ryochin. I'm not home right now. Call back 15 hours later.' said his squeaky, hey-I'm-lying voice. Oh deuce. So he wasn't home at 8 in the morning? What could be...? He was a lover boy, naturally. That explained it; Miyagi never returned or answered phone calls unless it was from Ayako or Anzai. That being figured, I was now left with two dire options; Akagi or Sakuragi. I jammed the speaker down with a picqued grunt, totally incinerated by my frustrations. What if none of them was available? Doomsday would sure come too early for me. I settled on Akagi and clicked his home number only to be disappointed by a recurrent buzz.

beep...beep...beep...flowed the shirty tempo of the infamous busy tone. Damn! Where the crap was everybody? I almost wring my head in fiasco.

But there was still the red head ape...The reason why I didn't right away put the make on Sakuragi was that I was rather loath to tell him that we had company. Rukawa. It would just invoke all the hugger-mugger under the sun through wires if I went like, 'Come over, kid. There are lots to swive here. Even Rukawa is here.' No, I realized that would make my day even more stale. He would refuse it 200 per cent on the money if he knew I was with Rukawa. And then he'd go berserk, entertaining no thoughts of rehabilitation or reconciliation with Rukawa. He wouldn't even do it for my sake; he was generally pitiless and self centered. The depraved cave man. But I was the one at stakes here and my life was no question my primary concern. I elected to give my shrewdness a try. I slat Sakuragi's phone number on the box. 1-700-56938.

ring...ring...ring. It worked! I was ready to jump and bump my head on the ceiling.

'Hanamichi here. What?' Sprang his voice. Laziness was mingling with it.

'Mornin',' Sakuragi. Does a drinking party at my place sound good to you?' I asked hurriedly and excitedly.

'Yeah, I guess. But it's too early-'

'Never mind that. Both our schedule is vacant. I'll wait for you even if you come late. Just promise you will,' I grumbled with a fussy shiver. He can't say no. He can't say no. He can't say no. My mind was being drilled.

'Sure thing. Uhm, who else is going?' He asked in a make-it-fast tone.

'No one.' I lied and cast a skittish glance at Rukawa who was still endorsing the same blank look that resembled oddly a scowl. 'Everybody's out. But that doesn't mean 2 can't party, ayt?' I finished apologetically.

'Fine. In an hour.' Sakuragi replied peremptorily. End of the deal; I was saved. It was as if I had just been injected with sedative drops. But an hour seemed too long.

Time was spherical, and so was life.

I slouched off in front of Rukawa. Pure, unsullied silence was pervading the air like invisible confetti; only the despondent clanging of the grandfather clock in the corner was a disruption. There he was supporting his dysfunctional head and inside it was his defective, minute brain. He was almost a walking good mood repellent who bereaved me specifically of fundamental tolerance. Why did I harbor so much personal aversion towards this boy? Envy; for the execution of his perfect talent? His sky high slams? His fans? Forget it. He was the hoodlum and I was his hostage; unless the circumstances necessitated me to go away from him, I was trapped.

'You want a bottle before we start, Rukawa?' I asked in a calmed attitude. No abhorrence there anymore; I wanted affinity.

'...' He gave a specified "no" by shaking his head lightly. It was like a white balloon, an airhead. Even so, he was being a good boy just like what his mom asked him.

'I'm really sorry but I can't take care of you as your nanny does. I dunno any of those household arts or baby sitting crap; I'm an untutored dick for that field. But we can still have fun, okay?' I said reassuringly as if I were comforting a bruised child.

'...' Rukawa sighed. He was a true blue no-lingual crumb, if not a one liner. Still, he was exhibiting the very same goddamn look that neither indicated assent or disapproval.

'Well, what d'you suppose we do to kill time with while waiting for Sakuragi? I got my to-do list blank today, you know.' I murmured, trying hard not to sound like a manipulative bastard.

'The do'ahou is coming?' Rukawa blurted out in shock, excluding the erstwhile innocence of his cool. Then his deathly gaze shifted into a scornful glare as if I myself were Sakuragi. It all revealed his stocked hatred for the red head.

'Yeah, well I figured it would be boring if we party and carouse by ourselves alone.' I reasoned. I wanted to maintain the I'm-the-boss-here-so-I-make-decisions composure, but it just flopped like a crappy movie.

'He can't, sempai.' Rukawa persisted in a matter I didn't anticipate nor approve of. It was demanding and bossy. I knew he was committed to it and no way was he putting up with that monkey faced red head.

This was what I was trying to avoid but it all seemed inevitable; whichever, nothing was easier.

'Listen, Rukawa.' I leaned my head forward to stress my point. 'This is a weekend and we're supposed to have fun, like teenage hoola boolas. If you're planning to formulate my blow up day just because you hate hanging out with Sakuragi, then be my guest. But note that that wouldn't happen for as long as I am here. It's rather puny, so hooey to hold grudge against someone-'

knock...knock...knock. A heavy set of knuckles thundered the door's surface like an earthquake.

'Mitchan! Tensai is here!' sprouted the familiar, booming voice. Sakuragi just arrived. I looked at Rukawa pleadingly for him to assume splendid cooperation, but he only gave back the typical look of a timorous sonuvabitch.

Click…click...click. The door knob was twisting furiously due to Sakuragi's well supplied effort to quarrel with the instrument. Clearly, he couldn't figure out that it was locked from the inside. I relieved him by quietly unclasping the door.

'Hi Mitchan! I brought some--' Sakuragi halted mysteriously upon coming vis a vis with me. A strange look whelmed his face as if he just saw Akagi transform into a hunky matinee idol. I don't know the exact name of the expression; I only knew that it was the kind that preceded a mocking peal of laughter, then...For a second I noticed that he deliberately averted his gaze as his fiery eyes fell on Rukawa. The pupils further burned with a supercilious hmmph. He was about to say he brought along my favorite street barbecue. Dead meat.

'Oh, he's here? What the fuck is he doing here?' Flared the incensed scarlet top. He pointed a shaky finger at Rukawa.

'Get out, do'ahou.' Retaliated the Kitsune in an outrageous arrogance by furrowing his boasting brow.

'Yap out, Rukawa!' I warned and shot him a menacing, watch-yourself-dude look. 'Easy, freshies. Sakuragi, Rukawa's here as my responsibility. Rukawa, Sakuragi's here at my invitation. Neither of you are more welcomed than the other so just tag along with the plan, okay?' I continued in a calmer degree.

There was a pause. An intermittent momentary gap that simply said that my plan sucked worse than a stormed backyard party. Between Rukawa and Sakuragi there was no positive mutuality, only discord. I knew I thought better of not asking them to shake hands for Rukawa would blow Sakuragi's top the next moment.

'You're not needed. Scram.' Rukawa spat. Infallible hubris was all there was in his voice. So cheeky in his stature, he seemed like he just beat the crap out of the whole LA Lakers team.

'And you're not a candidate for the conversation, Kitsune. Go get yourself a driver's license and crash yourself to death on the road, it will all give us good!' Snarled the cantankerous Sakuragi. The tension had taken an upswing! I had to do something; this is the time to panic.

'This is childish!' I howled. 'You're team mates, you're supposed to be in sync-'

'Speak for yourself, Mitchy. This is all your goddamn doing. The fuck are you thinking taking Rukawa with you? Oh well, whaddayaknow. I'm leaving.' Sakuragi said with sheer conviction. I had trapped myself in an obscure swamp. How was I going to solve this? I hadn't got a solution...This is making me feel rotten. I thought.

'Hold it, Sakuragi!' I yelled and turned to Rukawa. 'Kaede, be mature enough to think correctly. This is the problem; not just you and me and him. It's the team that gets involved here. Now please, take a seat both of you.' I versed in strangled notes. I wasn't even sure what lectures to give them then.

Then using his most hostile arsenal, Rukawa ignored me; that salty, deliberate ignorance. If he could get more snobbish than that, he would've defined the meaning of clear cut impossible.

'Do'ahou.' Rukawa taunted (OOCly) in an attempt to continue the series of hubble. He was still muttering something under his breath like a dark crafted chanter, and his foxy eyes were rolling malignantly underneath his lids.

'Rukawa, I said shut up.' I howled for the umpteenth time in 4 minutes. My uneasiness was adding to my impatience, plus Rukawa's dour conduct and Sakuragi's threadbare temper and I was done for.

'You can call it your twosome party. I'll just go.' Sakuragi said to cut the litany. So he is playing the good guy. I thought. But I knew that he wasn't kidding. 'And by the way, Mitchy; YOUR FRONT TEETH ARE MISSING.' He slipped away silently, taking with him his justified huff while venting it on his palms.

It no longer mattered if Sakuragi was leaving me behind in this quandary. That whacked me out like I had just been tripped face down on the marble. Frozen on the spot. But I didn't drop on the floor. The gravity beneath me was pulling me harder that I was almost lured to a faint. A look reminiscent of a horror flick was blanketing my face. My thoughts were all rumbled inside my hollow frame. Whenever I tried catching one piece of thought, it just vanished before making contact with my impotent grasp.

MY...FRONT...TEETH...MISSING...What a cruncher. A one scatty finishing blow to this wacky weekend trip. I drew my fingers to my mouth and found the evidence that subtantiated Sakuragi's claims. The dentures weren't there; my point and forefinger fitted between the hollow left by those false beauties, and the curve was empty in the middle. Simply speaking: my 2 glittering, spurious teeth weren't equipped. They were neglected, left forlorn in my bathroom's wash bowl. Why the crap did i have to take them off while sleeping. And it occurred to me; I just went out! Humiliated myself publicly.Omigosh!

I was left in hysterics. I was going insane, utterly losing all operative faculties, as my memories dove in a pit of oblivion.

Then as slowly as the clouds eclipse the sun, it all transpired to me...From the moment I dragged me out of the phony bed. I knew it; the pieces were coming back to narrate the tale. That was why Sakuragi just jaw-dropped when I opened the damned door to him and the chain of strangeness never ended before that. That explained why the stupid cereals were spraying out of my mouth as I chewed; they were slipping through the void left by my 2 front teeth. And Rukawa's mom; she had mole eyes for eyes whose vision is just considerably slightly better than a blind's. She couldn't have suspected that I lost my any teeth. She was exonerated, in other words, clear of blame. Then there were the nosy people in the streets; instead of informing me they made jests by squinting oddly at me. It wasn't about the freaking, stinking pyjamas, it was about my teeth! They would pay me big time. And Mr Inoh...he was gentle minded and careful not to humiliate anyone. He was forgiven. Then came Sakuragi. Nah. I owed him. And then came Rukawa.

He had been there all the while, shattering all logical resistance of an Ice box, he who knew all along but rescinded his knowledge about the 'absence of my phony teeth'...Feel free to curse now, Hisashi. I was thinking though by all means I knew I was going nuts.

'DAMN BASTARD, YOU FILTHY PIECE OF FUCKED UP IMBECILE. WHY THE FUCK DID YOU HAVE TO MAKE A FUCKING MORON OUT OF ME IN THE GODDAMN STREETS? YOU DON'T GIVE A CRAP ABOUT OTHERS' EGO; YOU JUST WANT TO MAKE A BATTALION OF NINCOMPOOPS OUT OF THEM SO YOU'D LOOK SMARTER WHEN IN FACT YOU'RE DUMB AS A KOALA. AAAAAHHHHHH!'

No. I didn't hunch out all those banal profanities. I was too speechless to speak, much less to get myself out of this stunned state. Until,

'It's okay, sempai.' Rukawa grumbled out of the blue.

'This is fucking weak.' I gave out an irrational groan. How dare he? How dare he fucking soothe me when...arggghhhhh.

'You look okay, sempai.' Rukawa again. It sounded so half meant to me.

'...' I just grimaced to show my dissatisfaction. Who was going to buy that now? Me? Look okay without my front teeth? Bullcrap. Even Jude Law would look like a sewer imp sans front teeth.

I still stood there in seamless inactivity when suddenly the inexplicable happened.

Rukawa stretched up and helped me to the sofa. And all I could come up with was some incoherent gurgle, but I wouldn't cuss him. No matter how apparent was the fact that i was brimming with anger.

'You go drink all that beer. The aroma nauseates me. It's your goddamn money anyway.' I said, exhausted by the initial insanity of my lost teeth. Rukawa just watched me with those x ray eyes, the very kind of stare which my eyes couldn't adjust to. It was lucid, full of meaning, the one that could send an evasive chill exploring one's skin gradually. It was almost creepy.

I just looked back at the revolting maniac. He was sort of sneering, or was it just me? He slithered closer to me and huddled beside my larghetto body. At that particular instance, all the numbness swiftly left me for some cause that...He was near me and believe it or not, was actually stroking me. I didn't stop him. I could not. Because I wouldn't. I was drawing comfort from his actions. His face was just an inch apart from mine and I couldn't help remarking, deluded as I was, that he was a knockout. Like wow. I had never touched such translucent skin and so cool, cute face. I was actually in a couch with a heart throb, in my barely-there pajamas. I could've gone wet that second, or perhaps already I was.

Rukawa halted at his fiddling and did that old yawning trick; lifted up his arms and landed them unconsciously on my shoulders. It felt, no other word for it: heavenly.

'Rukawa?'

'Yes, sempai?'

'I'm still sleepy.'

'Me too.'

'Let's go upstairs to my room.'

'Okay.'

That ended the 3 hour crisis. Just like that; I forgot all his offenses against me. It brought back all the expired magnificence of my ideal, perfect rest. Our bodies were way too close together. That was all that mattered.

I don't remember much after that. We might've even gone to the showers together or whatever. The case of Miller Lite remained untouched and was reduced to a damp bunch of warm alcohol. No trace identified that we ever took time drinking it. We might've been good boys after all. And then as wicked as it sounds, upon Mrs. Rukawa's arrival, we immediately persuaded her to let Kaede sleep over at my place. She agreed without an argument and the sleepovers became frequent to the point of regularity. Even until now. It's a wonder how ironic one can get, isn't it? Even I. But the factor happened to be Rukawa; to tell the truth, I've never met anyone as irresistible, as magnetic, as powerful, and as efficient a partner. He doesn't even mind if I'm not wearing my front teeth. Yeah, he's that perfect.

END


End file.
